Somewhere, Serast was turning the morning into doctrine.
Lucien rested his forehead against hers for one breath, then stepped back.
Lysa resumed inspecting the window as if she had heard nothing.
Her ears were red.
Sabine straightened her gown and forced her hands to stop shaking.
“Brinna,” she said.
Lucien’s face closed around purpose again. “I sent for Tal.”
“I want to know what was in the cordial.”
“So do I.”
“And the page.”
“Elara can examine the ink. Elric can compare the hand. Heskar can trace who entered the chamber if he chooses to do his job instead of merely arranging it.”
“If he chooses.”
Lucien’s mouth tightened. “I will encourage him.”
A knock sounded.
All three of them turned.
Lucien opened the door himself.
A palace runner stood outside, pale and breathless, holding a folded note.
“From Physician Tal, Your Highness.”
Lucien took it, broke the seal, and read.
His expression changed.
Not surprise.
Confirmation.
He handed the note to Sabine.
Tal’s handwriting was spare and controlled.
Lady Brinna lives. Cordial contained suspension draught. Not lethal poison. Induces collapse, shallow breathing, slowed pulse, and ritual unfitness. Commonly used in controlled removal before sacred proceedings. Source requires temple authorization.
Sabine read the note twice.
Suspension draught.
Not poison.
Not murder.
Worse.
